Before
by Emily Jennings
Summary: Tess and Max were destined to be together or so Tess believes, but nobody knows the truth, nobody remembers what really happened back on Antar, nor why Max is so drawn to Liz. Dreamer/Cliffhanger/Rebel fic R
1. Chapter 1

Before.

By  Emily Jennings

Disclaimer: The idea is mine, the characters are based on our Roswell friends, everything else you can work out for yourself!

Note: I did post this before, it was entitled "Life before Earth". Everything in the first and second chapters is what I posted before it's just moderated a little, so you might recognise it. I didn't really get a response before so I would really like you guys to review it if you like it. Please!!!!

♥♥♥

Eliza sunk further into silent despair as her mother's lecture progressed. She waited patiently for an appropriate opening in between the constant prattle which would allow her to plead her case, so far no such opportunity had arisen.

"Eliza! Are you listening to me?"

"Yes mother, but …"

"Good! Further more I believe …" Eliza refocused her eyes and tried in earnest to really listen to her. "You're of an age when _blah, blah, blah, blah, blah_…" and once again she was back where she had started.

It wasn't as though Eliza was prone to this sort of thing, her tutors would be the first to say that she was an apt pupil; the first to listen. It was just that her mother was a tiresome woman whose single purpose in life was to gossip about her neighbours and assume a superior position above all of her acquaintances.

She had little if any intelligence and in short Eliza could not abide her. The feeling was mutual. 

There was a highly audible intake of breath and Eliza became aware that she had finally gotten her opening. "Mother!" she started with no uncertain amount of exasperation, "Surely you can see how ridiculous this proposal is?"

"Indeed I cannot. Why should this be ridiculous? Why should this be so? You are to tell me at once!"

Eliza could hardly contain her sense of outrage "How could you be in any doubt of the matter? It is highly immoral mother. I am barely fourteen and you wish to marry off to the first air headed nobleman that comes our way, without any thought of my well being!"

"Oh such a devious and ungrateful daughter have I! How you twist my words. I do not wish to marry you off to just anybody, I wish to marry you off to your _soul mate!" She stressed the last word as though she thought Eliza was simple and unable to comprehend the meaning. _

A hopeless anger consumed Eliza as her mouth moved fruitlessly to form words that would adequately express her indignation, she found none. Finally succumbing to her mother's words she slumped ungracefully onto the stone bench at her side. Her tone was quiet and tired as she made a last effort to plead with her mother. "Why mother? Why are you doing this? None of the other girls have to."

"Eliza you should well know by now, what others may do you may not, just as what _you may do others may not."_

"Oh yes, I remember now…" the heavy sarcasm in her voice was only too evident. "We're royalty right?" The elder woman gave a satisfied nod and inhaled as though to speak, her daughter interrupted her. 

"Sorry, I forgot. Your only royalty by association. I'm the only one that can make that claim, and let's face it…I'm so far down the royal hierarchy that their majesties haven't even acknowledged the connection."

Eliza's mother's voice rang shrill with anguish and impatience, "You _must_ understand. Grave times are coming to Antar and you may find yourself High Queen sooner then you expect."

That was not the reply Eliza had been expecting. However she was only just beginning to warm to the subject and chose to ignore the abnormality of the comment. 

"If that is the case mother, if grave times are coming to Antar than why is it that Prince Zan has not yet been forced to find his soul mate? After all he is the immediate hire to the throne, if anything was to happen to their majesties he would be in direct succession." she fired acidly. Her mother evaded the question with an air of disinterest. "I do not make it my affair to question their majesties motives."

"What a surprise…" Eliza muttered under her breath, "You do with everybody else!"

"That is enough young lady I have come to the end of my tether! Whatever their majesties are doing I am sure they have good reason for it. This discussion is over unless I say otherwise. You are to cease this folly immediately and I wish you to come promptly to dinner with an apology in tow" With that she swept away back into the house.

Eliza was left alone feeling as though she would cry, "What if I don't have a soul mate?" she asked aloud, but the question was carried away by the soft eastern breeze.

♥

Prince Zan strode into his parents' assembly room with a directness that proved him to be a boy, or perhaps more appropriately a man, in the midst of a mission. A minor noble had previously been seeking advice from the King but found cause to pause under the Crown Prince's obvious fury.

"Perhaps you should take leave kind Sir, so that my son may dispel that which has caused him this uncharacteristic change in disposition in a private viewing" the King suggested mildly, the nobleman was only too happy to oblige.

"I must admit my son; if your extravagant entrance was to capture my attention you have succeeded ten fold. I am afire with curiosity."

The Queen frowned at her husband's easy manner knowing too well it would only succeed in irritating their son further, which at present was not an advisable thing to do. 

"I am fed up of having every Gods blesséd girl in the kingdom thrust under my nose. I refuse to have another one paraded in front of me!" he fumed. "Further more the knowledge escapes me as to why I have half the palace gawp at me every time I'm with one of these girls. The servants whisper amongst themselves as to whether or not she's _the one_ and I have members of nobility counselling as to how _desirable each one is and what _qualities_ I should be looking for in a _mate_. Now tell me if I'm wrong here, but I'm getting a strong feeling that you're not telling me everything!"_

He looked at both of his parents in turn and waited for a reasonable explanation. He didn't get one. Letting out an infuriated growl he turned and exited the room, making a point of slamming the door behind him. 

"Well that was an interesting display of temper wouldn't you say dear?" remarked the King in an outrageously jolly tone. The Queen's own temper began to rise, "I do not believe you see the extent to which this is affecting our son. He is clearly distressed by these events and yet you continue to treat his feelings as though they are of little importance! However do you expecting him to become a good king if you insist on treating him like a child?"

Her husband arched his eyebrows and waited for his wife's sudden anger to subside a little. "My Lady, the _boy_ that confronted me today presented to me neither an ability to sensibly control his emotions nor the maturity to convey them in a way that would tempt me to treat him as an equal. I am surprised you did not notice that.

The thinly veiled insult directed at her did not go unnoticed but she had to concede that once again he was correct. "Of course you are right. It just pains me to see him suffer like that."

"I should hardly call _that suffering my dear. I dare say there is any number of young men that would happily kill to be in his position at this moment in time." She nodded in mute agreement. The King rested a gentle hand on his wife's shoulder, he was sensitive to his wife's grievance at the need to keep the true matter concealed from their son. Despite all outward appearances, husband and wife loved each other deeply and it was because of this that he felt the need to console her._

He sighed tiredly, his eyes tightly masking the affects of many sleepless nights. "You know the situation before us as well as I and it means we cannot trust anybody. The opposing force is becoming stronger and anything could happen at any given time. If anything should happen to us Zan must take the throne and only with his soul mate will he have the strength to survive the pending war. It is for his safety and the safety of our people that was must do this. We have a responsibility to uphold and it cannot be neglected, no matter how many sacrifices we have to make in the process."

"There must be a more efficient way to find this girl though. As of yet we have had no system when choosing the girls and if we're not careful the war will be upon us and we will be no better off."

"There isn't much we can do. It has been centuries since the need for soul mates and even then few people actually found their _real_ soul mates. King Zavier the Great was the last of our race to find his soul mate, which was over two hundred years ago and in the end it proved to be his down fall!"

"Yes. I know. But he is known as the greatest king we've ever had!"

Quite suddenly and without warning a thought came to her with such clarity that she was rendered momentarily speechless. "I've got it!" she gasped when she could finally speak and then she rather abruptly left leaving behind her a very confused king.

♥

The Queen gave very strict instruction to her two personal body guards detailing that she was not to be interrupted by anybody under any circumstances, and then she got to work.

The royal library was certainly the most extensive in the kingdom and it was even rumoured the most extensive of the five planets. A more thorough investigation would have to take place to give that any justification though. It had it's drawbacks of course. The room was very rarely used which unfortunately left it with a musty odour of neglect that was not pleasant for the senses. She quiet stubbornly refused to let this deter her however and stayed amongst the mildewed books late into the night.

She vaguely recognised her husband's voice amid the others that came to enquire after her but was satisfied to note that they were all politely but rather firmly turned away. The task in itself was relatively easy, finding the correct book was the more trying part and the Queen had begun to get irritable. 

There were hundreds of volumes detailing the reign of King Zavier the Great and as a matter of principle she meticulously went through all of them.

It was not Zavier himself she wished to know about, since she already had a quite detailed knowledge of his life, but his descendants. The only problem was that after Zavier's untimely death historians tended to shy away from the subject and his family line wasn't mentioned any further.

One book entitled _The Rise and Fall of a Great King had seemed to be promising but turned out to be terribly disappointing. After a very detailed description of Zavier's gruesome and honourable death there was one short paragraph explaining very briefly what happened after the Thousand-year War had come to a cataclysmic end._

Zavier's nephew, Nazaril, abdicated from the throne knowing full well he would always be in his deceased uncle's shadow. That was how the Arratite's had come to the throne, and that was why her husband now ruled Antar.

The Queen closed the last book and gave a dismal little sigh. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea after all. Just when she was about to give her something occurred to her; it's funny how that sometimes happens isn't it? 

It was fairly obvious that she had been looking in the wrong place all along. What she really needed was the monarchy records which rather opportunely happened to be in the adjoining room. She hadn't been in there five minutes before she had found what she was looking for.

Zavier's line was almost extinct. The Queen was a little ashamed to admit that even she, who prided herself on giving respect where it was due, had allowed the line to go unrecognised and mistreated for so long. She would go about rectifying that immediately. Scrolling down the family tree, she began to become dismayed. Then at the very end…a Princess of fourteen. How very convenient!

♥

Rath regarded the dejected and worn young man that was his Overlord Prince and best friend and pitied him. He sat forming small green balls of energy in the palm of his hands and threw them carelessly at the wall opposite him. Rath cleared his throat and Zan momentarily looked up to see who it was, "Go away!"

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or are you going to continue taking it out on the wall?"

"I gave you a royal command." he replied sullenly.

"Since when have I listened to royal commands?"

After ten years of friendship Rath was accustomed to Zan's outbursts and was unfazed by his friend's hot temper. He took a seat by the Prince and waited. _5, 4, 3, 2…_

"Girls! Everywhere I go there are millions of them, all fawning over me." Zan finally admitted resentfully.

"Some would think that isn't so bad." Rath joked hoping to lighten the mood and failing miserably.

"Oh go ahead, laugh at my expense! It's okay for you, you and Lonnie are practically married." His mood darkened, "If they show me another damn curséd girl I'll go crazy, I'll…I'll refuse to see her! What's more they won't tell me why."

Rath considered his options and couldn't see any delicate way of putting it, besides, he was terrible at letting people down gently. "Well it's bloody obvious isn't it? They want you to get married!"

Zan winced as though he had just been punched in the face and nodded glumly. "I was kind of hoping that you wouldn't mention that." he lamented.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted as the Queen entered. Rath knew by her face what she was going to say and considered running for cover.

"Zan, there you are!" she exclaimed brightly, "We're having guests over and I was hoping you might help me entertain them."

Rath frowned, that hadn't been what he was expecting.

Zan too eyed the situation with suspicion, he had a feeling his mother had an underlying motive. "You can handle guests mom, why do you need me?"

The Queens voice turned vague and uncaring, "Well, err… she has a 14 year old daughter called Eliza and I wanted you to keep her company."

 "Mother, if this is another of father's plots I'll kill him."

"Oh no, I would just really appreciate the help." The Queen hoped her son wouldn't see through her out right lie, "Please? If you do this I promise to try and dissuade your father from anymore of his elaborate conspiracies."

"Okay, okay. I'll do it." he said bitterly.

"Oh I'm so glad you agreed!" she threw her arms around her son in an almost girlish exuberance and kissed him soundly.

"Gerroff  mom!!!"

"Don't worry dear, Rath won't think any less of you" she tousled her son's hair affectionately and walked out of the room humming. 

"You know she's lying don't you?" Rath enquired matter-of-fact.

"Huh?" Zan murmured.

"The girl…she's another suitor."

Zan rubbed his eyes, suddenly very tired, "Yeah, I know."

♥

The soft contrasts of green and brown that were the trees and roads of Antar's unruly countryside slowly dissolved, giving way to the splendour of the capital city and urban society. Eliza hung out of the window and breathed in the harsh wind that tugged stubbornly at her chocolate brown hair. Loose strands had worked themselves free of the tight bun atop her head and lashed rebelliously at the sides of her face making her cheeks pink with the cold.

Still she would not pull away from the window, despite her mother's vigorous protests. There were smells and sounds and finery that she had never in her life experienced and she refused to miss the slightest detail. In truth they were nothing but distorted flashes, blurred by the carriage's speed but Eliza failed to notice, or perhaps she just didn't care.

"It's wonderful!" she shouted back to her mother.

"I have no care for the wonders of the City." Her mother sniffed haughtily. "My only care is that you are fit to be seen by royalty and you shall not be fit to be seen by _anybody_ if you carry on like this."

Eliza rolled her eyes to the heavens and muttered a few choice oaths before pulling herself reluctantly away from the beauty of the passing terrain. "Okay, okay…you win!"

Before she could even settle herself back in her seat her mother began fussing over the state of her hair and dictating to her the finer points on how a lady should act.

Eliza let her mother chatter happily for a while and then engaged her about a matter that had been bothering her since she had received the invitation to the Palace. "Mother, why exactly are we going to the Palace?"

The elder woman attempted to defer answering the question by becoming exceedingly interested in the passing landscape that had previously been so boring to her.

Eliza persisted with her enquiry, "Mother, I'm quite adamant about getting an answer so there's no point in putting it off!"

"Well if you must know…" she replied tartly, "I haven't the faintest idea as to why their majesties wish to meet us, although it's about time we got some recognition." She judged by her flighty tone that her mother really _didn't have a clue as to why they had been summoned the Palace._

A peaceful silence blanketed the carriage, but of course her mother hated quietness of any kind and felt it necessary to fill the space with inappropriate conversation. "… and of course Junna shall be ever so jealous when I tell her that we had a _personal invitation to visit their majesties at the royal palace, and we must have new gowns made for you by Princess Vilandra's _personal_ seamstress for there will be balls and banquettes every night and if you are to be seen with the Prince then …"_

"WHAT?!" 

"Oh I shouldn't worry Eliza he's far too old for you he's…he's fourteen. Why isn't that the strangest coincidence? He's the exact same age as you!" her tone ended in mock shock.

Realisation hit Eliza with a large thump, she had been duped. She was being whisked off to the palace to for go the humiliation of being examined by the monarchy and if she wasn't up to standards she was going to be sent straight back. In short,  she was a suitor for the Prince.

♥

The carriage moved through the main gates at midday and for a moment Eliza dismissed her foul mood and watched in awe as the Palace stood in all of it's grandeur.

Great glass spires ascended and disappeared into the clouds and delicate pathways rose up and hovered in mid air, acting as bridges to link the many intricate buildings. The faceted glass combined with the pale Antarian sun formed breathtaking multicolour rainbows across the vast grounds, she loved it instantly.

The King and Queen awaited their arrival at the front steps, greeting a variety of their subjects in a gracious manner. As the carriage drew closer Eliza was able to study the regal couple.

The King was an ageing man who looked venerable, as some men do tend to as they become older. His black hair was streaked grey at the temples and he had the weathered, friendly face of a man who had laughed a lot in his youth. Despite his wrinkles it was plainly obvious that he had been extremely handsome in his earlier years.

Unlike her husband, the Queen seemed untouched by time. At least as tall as her partner, there were no signs of age on her fair, unblemished features. Her golden blonde hair fell down to her waist and a single lock of palest blond, near white, hair protruded down her right side. She was beautiful.

The coachman jumped down from his box and opened the carriage door, letting down a small step while doing so. He held out his hand to help her down the step and gave her an encouraging smile, was it really that evident that she was nervous?

In a rush to please, Eliza's mother gave a clumsy curtsy and began to babble profusely; their majesties did not seem impressed.

Her heritage may have been forgotten by the world but Eliza was still a Princess, a descendant of Zavier the Great, and unlike her mother she refused to make a fool of herself and act inferior to them. Her curtsy was one that quite clearly stated that she thought they were of equal status, and unlike Antarian custom dictated she matched the Queen's unwavering gaze instead of looking down.

She was rather astonished when instead of looking haughty or angered by this breach in etiquette, the Queen flashed her an amused grin. Eliza returned a coy smile, taking to her immediately. They were briefly introduced and then a whirlwind of activity erupted around her.

The Queen placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and escorted her in to the Palace, she found that in the bustle she had been separated from her mother.

"You will have your own chambers dear." The Queen said in a musical voice as though reading her thoughts.

Eliza nodded her head deftly and entrusted herself to the elder woman. The surroundings were alien to her and any confidence she had previously had evaporated. Curiosity got the better of her however, and she eventually plucked up the courage to ask the Queen a question. "Excuse me, where do residents live in the Palace? I mean if the Palace in made of glass then…?"

The Queen smiled down at the Princess, "How very inquisitive of you dear!" the Queen approved. "We don't actually live in the Palace, that's where all the official stuff goes on. We life in a manor house situated behind the Palace. I believe it was one of your great ancestors that started off that tradition, and I whole heartedly agree. Vilandra tends to get bored if she's left to her own devices and would probably annoy some very important people in the process if she had to spend all her time at the Palace. You see my daughter's what one would call 'high maintenance'. My son Zan is at a difficult stage in his life right now and …well I shan't bore you with the details."

They carried on in a comfortable silence until they reached the grounds behind the Palace.

The manor house was a stately building with more windows and chimneys then Eliza had ever seen. Ivy crept up every visible wall and neat flower beds bordered the freshly cut grass and orderly pathways. It somehow possessed the ability to look both imperial and homey at the same time and Eliza begrudgingly admitted that she wouldn't mind living there, but _not_ as anybodies Queen.

The inside of the establishment was just as pleasing, if not more so, then the exterior. Plush carpets of many rich colours covered the floors in each room, while the corridors were laid with wood.

The Queen directed her down one of the numerous passages and ushered her to a door that had her name engraved on a plaque. "It's a little permanent don't you think?" Eliza enquired. It was like they presumed her stay would be a long one and she did not appreciate the idea.

"I went to the trouble of giving you your own personal rooms. I should hope that after your stay you would wish to return here at your leisure. If you feel that that is inappropriate however I shall have your name removed and issue more temporary rooms."

Eliza felt sheepish and just a little ungrateful, "No, I…what I mean to say is…I am most appreciative of your offer it's just, your kindness wasn't expected."

The Queen smiled in an irritatingly knowing way and opened the door. "Here we are dear, all your things should be in there. I'm sure you already have your own gowns but I thought that perhaps you might want the seamstress to stop by?"

If the Queen had asked Eliza previously she may have been affronted, but now she had seen first hand what some of the other ladies in court wore and she had to confess they were spectacular. She was already wearing her best gown and it was nothing compared their attire. "If you wouldn't mind; yes please."

"Now that that's settled I suppose you wish to relax after your long journey. Your rooms back onto a remote little garden, it is very rarely used and it has a beautiful fresh water lake in it. If you wish to bath in it you are welcome to, you shall not be disturbed. I myself use it on occasion and must say that it is most relaxing."

Eliza thanked the Queen and slipped quietly into the room. It was bright, airy and furnished comfortably by somebody with taste. Glancing around she noted that her clothes were neatly stored away and various personal objects were arranged around the room making it her own.

Her maid wasn't at hand but she preferred it that way, she decided that a swim in the lake was just what she needed and gathered up her towel, exiting through the veranda doors.  

♥♥♥

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Before.

By Emily Jennings

Disclaimer: The idea is mine, the characters are based on our Roswell friends, everything else you can work out for yourself!

Note: I know, I know; I don't deserve the reviews or support I got in my first chapter because I'm a lousy author that updates on the next side of never! My sincerest apologise to all those waiting. I beg on bent knees for your forgiveness. This part of the story proved more difficult to rewrite then I thought plus I had loads of personal stuff going on plus I got a severe case of Lazy-i-tus. Sorrrrrry. _Please_ read, review and enjoy…

♥♥♥

Zan needed someplace quiet to do some serious thinking, it was midday and the guests would just be arriving. He was aware that he should probably go along with his parents to greet them but quickly dismissed the idea. The prospect of having to make pleasantries with yet another strange girl did not appeal to him. He stalked across the lawn and walked directly into the entrance of the manor house, doing his best to look inconspicuous.

He didn't doubt that if he was caught wondering idly around the establishment with no apparent aim he would be put to work performing whatever princely duty the nearest servant could concoct for him.

Zan groaned inwardly. Vilandra was making her way down the hall with one or another of her girlish friends and he knew all too well how a meeting between he and his sisters friends turned out; bad. Zan moved into the first available room and scanned the surrounds for a plausible escape route. The main window in this room was half open, making the curtains flutter in the breeze. The Prince jumped over the ledge and onto the lush, green undergrowth on the other side, waiting with bated breath for his sister to pass.

The echoing voices faded into the distance and he began to breathe more easily. Looking critically at the untamed foliage he guessed that he was in the less used area of the gardens behind the house, which suited his pensive mood just fine.

Zan was aware that there was a small clearing up ahead where he and Larek had used to play soldiers as boys. That was in the good old days before Larek's father had died and before Larek had had to return to his homeland to take up the mantle of ruler. Zan sighed regretfully; things had been so simple then.

As he entered the clearing a gentle splashing sound pulled Zan from reverie and away from his thoughts of melancholy contemplation. He was not prepared for the sight before him.

The girl had her back to him. Zan traced her long, wet, brown hair down to the small of her back and continued his inspection down to the creamy white skin of her heels. Her nude form made him uncomfortably aware of the differences of their genders but he found that he could not pull his gaze away from her. He tried in vain to walk away from her but his feet refused to move. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he laboured fruitlessly, trying to form words that would inform her of his presence.  
He refused to admit the simple truth, which was that more then half of his body's unwillingness to cooperate with his mind was because he simply didn't want to.

♥

Eliza turned in the red viscous water and gave a startled yelp, directed at the boy that stood staring openly at her nude figure. Her temper began to rise with indignant fury.

She found, much to her surprise, that just as quickly as it had come, it was now going away. An odd blanket of calm settled around her, effectively subduing what outrage she may have felt towards him. More curious then angry, Eliza wondered how the boy could still not realise that she was looking at him.

"How long have you been standing there?" she demanded. When he didn't seem to realise he was being spoken to she enquired: "Do you always stare so?"

The boy blushed pink. "Sorry." he mumbled. "I don't make a habit of this."

"I should hope not." Her voice was stern and reprimanding but her eyes danced with mirth that revealed her true sentiment. "Fetch me that towel would you?" He blinked as though the question had not registered in his mind and then blushed a deep crimson before turning to retrieve it.

He was not as young as she had first thought, perhaps a little older then herself. His tall, muscular stature confirmed that he was on the brink of manhood at least. The Antarian sun had begun to dip, making its slow descent towards the horizon. His profile lay in silhouette against the beauty of the rapidly declining backdrop and his raven brown hair was brought into vivid contrast with the burnt autumnal sky. Eliza's breath caught in her throat.

Diverting his eyes, he handed her the towel.

The entrancing image was lost immediately but was replaced by one Eliza found equally pleasing.

He had striking features; soulful brown eyes that were framed by long lashes, although they could certainly _not be called feminine, and tantalisingly, inviting, full lips. Her stomach fluttered._

_Stop this silliness immediately! _

She blushed under the full scrutiny of his intense gaze and he blushed in turn. She shivered as a nameless emotion took hold of her and smiled. This would certainly be interesting.

♥

The silence that passed between them was not an awkward one, but Zan felt that he should break it all-the-same.

"I didn't mean to … what I'm trying to say is that it wasn't my intention to …" He gestured towards her scantily clad figure and then looked towards the ground, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. Eliza smothered a smile with the back of her hand, "Don't worry about it. I won't hold it against you … although I probably should." Zan looked at her and thought he was almost certain she was joking.

"So would you like me to take you on a tour around the house and stuff?"

Eliza looked down at the small towel she was wearing and peered ruefully though the tendrils of wet, chocolate coloured locks that had snaked down her face, partially covering her eyes, "I'm a little indisposed at the moment …"

"Of course, it was stupid of me to ask. What was I thinking?!!" He sat down heavily on a stone bench beside them and put his head in his hands. "It's just not my day today" he remarked forlornly. Eliza stood uncertainly for a moment and then sat beside him, placing her hand on his, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing you could help me with, but thanks anyway." Eliza took her hand away and they sat in pensive silence.

Zan sent a side-ways glance her way and realised he didn't even know _her name. "So do you have a name?" he asked more bluntly then he intended. The girl raised an eyebrow in matter-of-fact surprise, "Yes. Why, don't you?" Zan found that he was blushing again. He was doing that a lot lately!_

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"Eliza."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Eliza" The boy besides her gave a strangled chock, "_Princess Eliza? You're a suitor for the Prince?"_

Eliza nodded her head dismally and sighed, "Of course I didn't actually _know about the whole conspiracy until we were virtually at the palace gates, otherwise I would have absolutely refused under any circumstances to come." She turned to the boy and noticed rather uncomfortably that he was staring at her in utter horror. Hands on hips, she glared at him accusingly. "Are you going to get all weird now you know who I am?" He shook his head and Eliza let out a breath of relief that she had not known she had been holding. "So who are you?"   _

Think Zan, think, he ordered himself and drew yet another blank. The last thing he wanted to do was make this girl clam up, and he had a strange suspicion that that was exactly what she would do if he revealed his true identity. "Max!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Excuse me?"

"My name is Max."

"Oh …that sounds foreign. Where are you from?"

"I've lived here all my life, so have my parents, but we have a long ancestral heritage so it could come from any part of this universe." He wasn't lying either. He _had_ lived there all of his life, his parents had too, and he _did_ have a long ancestral heritage, and he was almost certain that he could not have thought up a strange name like 'Max' all by himself so it _must be an old family name he had only just remembered … after all, what kind of a name was __Vilandra?_

♥

Some time later … 

Rath laboured to contain his overwhelming shock as Zan relayed all that had happened with the Princess. However he was finding it increasingly difficult to form a coherent thought as his friend continued with his narrative. The Prince Regent stumbled through the tale often chocking in areas and turning rapidly beet red. Shuddering a deep sigh he flopped mournfully onto a vacant chair and closed his eyes in distress, "So, what do you think?"

"I think your crazy man, real crazy, that's what I think." Rath paced, almost as agitated as his friend. "I knew that whole chivalrous thing was just an act. I mean, no guy can be _that_ romantic and gallant. But even so, I think you may have gone too far. I mean the girl was naked and you just _stared_!

"I _know_, I _know!" Zan replied, becoming more and more distressed._

"Still, at least we know she fancies you."

"Rath, that is completely ridicu – You really think so?"

"Hell yeah. You're still alive aren't you?"

"Yes but –" 

"_Exactly_! You stare at the girl naked and she _doesn't kill you? She's hot for you!!!"_

Zan was utterly confused but he placed his faith in his loveable, if a little overzealous, friend. "Weeeell, in that case …" he countered slowly, "If I go to her now and tell her the truth she'll understand and the damage level of this whole … _thing_, will be contained"

Rath seemed to chock on the breath of air he had just inhaled and stared wide eyed at Zan as though the Prince had suddenly grown an extra head. 

"Are you kidding me?!!" he demanded in a strangled whisper, to which Zan frowned and shook his head.

Rath stood and straightened his tunic. He assumed a slow back-and-forth pace across the room and, in Zan's mind anyway, seemed to be prepping himself for the conversation that was obviously about to follow.

He stopped abruptly and with grim determination resumed his seat.

"Listen, what you just suggested was nothing short of suicide, even for you. You have just lied to that girl and if there is one thing that really pisses girls off it's when you lie to them. Now, if we were talking about some Lord's daughter then _yes_, the damage would be considerable _but_, the situation would be salvageable. However, we're talking about a _Princess and I think that I needn't explain to you that Princesses are in a totally different league of their own!"_

Zan was reeling from the carriage load of information he had just received but nevertheless he couldn't help but agree with Rath. After all, he did live with possibly the most high maintenance Princess in the solar system.

"So what am I going to do?" he finely asked. "I mean, she's bound to find out the truth sooner or later!"

Suddenly a horrifying thought occurred to him and he thought that with the tight pain in his chest he was perhaps having a heart attack.

"Oh High Mother of Antar!" he cursed uncharacteristically. "Tonight! At the banquette! She'll be formally introduced to the Court! _We'll be formally introduced!"_

Rath sighed and nodded in conformation. "It's true your options aren't good but they're options all the same. You can either go to her cambers now and confess and she'll kill you which will undoubtedly throw the planet into civil war, _or_, she can find out at the banquette where there will be thousands of witnesses and she won't be able to do a thing! The worst she could do is walk out and, let's face it, the only girl who would have enough guts to walk out of the _Coronation Hall at the __High Palace when a __Royal audience was being held would be your sister."_

The Prince conceded that her finding out at the banquette must surely be the only foolproof way of her discovering the truth. He, however, still had the feeling of signing his own death warrant.

♥

Eliza had always heard herself exclaimed a beauty but had never believed it. Now she thought she could see a little of where they were coming from.

After she had left Max she had returned to her rooms and the seamstress had turned up as the Queen had promised. Her name was Mira and she had been a plain-featured, kindly woman of middle years.

Usually Eliza could not abide a visit by the seamstress but today she had vowed to make a special effort.

Mira, however, was obviously used to dealing with temperamental Princesses and was extremely entertaining. She had a sharp mind and witty tongue and before Eliza was aware of even starting they had finished and not only did she have an excessive amount of the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen but she knew all the gossip of the local court.

The oval mirror was cast in mahogany and Eliza peered into it examining herself critically. Of all of her new garments this one had been the plainest and was intentionally so.

Since the first settlement on the newly discovered planet dubbed Antar there had been a royal family and it was in that age that Antarian custom was formed.

Custom dictated that all princesses had to be presented as a gift to the heir of the throne in their year of coming-of-age. From these girls the heir would chose his bride and it was for this reason that the candidates could only wear a garment of simplest fashion and no veil or make-up of any kind could be worn. This prevented the heir from being deceived in anyway as to who the girl was and made it impossible for him to wed the wrong girl.

Now, of course, custom had been adjusted so that it was not compulsory for every princess to be 'presented' to the heir but if a princess was introduced to the Court, and thus the heir, she would have to dress according to the old custom.

A tight fitting, long sleeved, cream cotton bodice, which gave her, she suspected, the look of more cleavage then she actually possessed, was embroidered with white silk thread at the cuffs and collar and gave way to a sleek, cream, a-line skirt. A broad, long, white, ripped-silk belt was pulled securely around her waist and tied in a heavily starched, large bow at her lower back leading an excess of the lengthy material to trail as a train.

Her hair had massed atop her head in a lavish expression of chocolate brown ringlets and dainty, handcrafted, silken buds of cream and white were pinned laboriously amid the glossy locks.

A rogue wisp had escaped and set itself neatly beside her right check bringing attention to her captivating hazel eyes, which were, at present, apprehensive, and long dreamy eyelashes. Eyebrows arched like the wing of a bird in mid flight, full rosy lips, flawless ivory skin and naturally pink flushed checks completed her profile.

If any race of beings could make simple look complex it was the Antarians.

Eliza sighed wistfully, wishing that she were meeting the mysterious Max instead of the unknown Prince and did not know she was about to get her wish …

♥

Eliza ventured a side-glance at the young man who was her escort and mused at her shock on his introducing himself as Rath.

It was widely known throughout Antar that Rath was the Prince's best friend and that one day he would be second only to Zan in commanding all of Antar's army. What she found difficult to believe that he was the renowned Princess Vilandra's fiancé.

He was, she admitted, handsome in a rugged kind of way and possessed an air of the great physical strength of a warrior but she had believed that the suitor to the notorious social butterfly Vilandra would be more, well, _social._

Finally becoming bored of walking in silence she asked sarcastically: "Is the Prince as charming and animated as you?"

Rath gave a short laugh, "Rather the opposite actually; he's rather like Max."

Eliza barely hid her shock at Rath's acquaintance with Max and was in two minds to question him further or stay quiet and try to master the unbidden fluttering her stomach had given at Max's name. She settled for the latter; there was no time for questions, the entrance of the Coronation Hall was fast approaching and the huge wooden doors were flung open.

The hall was the largest she had ever seen with elaborate and beautiful tapestries depicting famous scenes of Antarian myths and legends, victorious battles and more placid images of renowned monarchs and even pleasant scenery of this planet and others and breathtaking astronomy.

It was Eliza's months of training at finishing school that kept her face emotionless when she felt that she would gasp aloud at its splendour, with only her eyes betrayed her true feelings; glistening with child-like wonder.

There was a large marble dais directly ahead of her path and upon it four intricate thrones dominated. Two were positioned slightly higher than the others and held the familiar figures of the King and Queen who were too far away to see clearly.

On the King's left side a raven haired boy awaited erect in his seat; his features indistinct at her current position. She expected that this was the Prince and at once, it seemed, the hall lost a little of its grandeur because of the realisation.

The forth throne situated almost immediately next to him was left rightfully empty. This seat would only be occupied once the Prince had taken his bride.

The Princess Vilandra did not have a throne in accordance to a custom evoking the right for only the King, immediate Heir and their wives to hold such a position within the hall. Instead she sat on a lesser dais, still raised above the rest of the court, to the Queen's right, facing inwards in a seat overlain with costly silks. Even at a distance Eliza knew the girl had her mother's beauty.

Regretfully, Eliza put aside her fascination so she might gain a better look at the Prince.

She reprimanded herself for allowing images of Max cease her thoughts and became quiet cross when her mind created the illusion that Max was sat on the throne.

The royal four had stood to greet her and soon the whole court followed example. Men and women of rank bowed or curtsied deeply and many of both genders sunk to the ground, both knees bent, and touched their heads to the floor, rising only when she had passed with their right hand on their heart.

Eliza however, oblivious, tightened her grip on Rath's escorting arm and clenched her jaw.

The regal quartet was now plainly visible and Prince Zan, it would seem, had a lot of explaining to do!

♥

Rath guided his charge to the dais and brought her to an appropriate distance from their Majesties. He turned to her petite form, released his arm from her grasp and taking her left hand in his two larger ones forced her to turn towards him.

He could see now that the Princess's hazel eyes lacked the spark of delight they had possessed only moments before and were instead filled with tempestuous anger. Her haughty glare told him that she knew that he knew and that there would be hell to pay.

He, Rath, bowed deeply and brushed his lips against the soft skin of her hand. He looked back into her eyes, his own eyes asking that she understand, and he murmured the words of ceremony: "May the light be with you and bless you and the High Mother grant that you grace these halls for years to come."

It was the first time, of escorting many princesses, that he had spoke those words with real sincerity, and he hoped, not just for his friend, that this time they would come true.

He stepped back, released from his duty, and backed towards his own princess. He stood close on her right and although he did not look down he brought his hand to the arm of her chair and was filled with warmth when she placed her own over it. 

He watched warily as Eliza gazed up prettily at the high dais, her gaze now filled with a deceptive innocence. She performed a delicate curtsy and held it in a respectfully demure way until the King finished some carefully scripted words of welcome.

Now, he thought anxiously, all she need do is back away courteously and allow herself to be guided to her seat.

She did not move.

The King frowned noticeably: "You wish to speak Princess Eliza?"

"If I may your highness."

Zan's person became ridge, Rath guessed he was holding his breath and he, Rath, sent a pray to the High Mother.

The King reclined his head in permission.

"I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you like this, however I cannot attend this banquet and ask to be excused." She stated bluntly and before the King could reply she added, "I must also make it known to you that if you try to keep me here I shall walk out anyway."

There was a murmur throughout the hall and a faint gasp of dismay from a woman he assumed was her mother. The King looked to his wife for console and she nodded her head puzzled.

"You may go; however, I am curious and must ask to why you refuse to attend." he returned, clearly confused. Eliza stared at the Prince for a moment and then replied: "I think you had best ask your son."

The whole court turned to the Prince expectantly and Eliza excused herself.

Rath smiled ruefully despite himself and with a new found respect for the brunette mentally retracted his earlier statement to Zan. Perhaps she _was as perfect as the Queen and Vilandra; it was just a shame that all prospects of her ever talking to Zan again were shattered let alone any chance of any sort of relationship between the two._

Meanwhile, Vilandra stared amusedly at the spunky brunette that was in the midst of storming out of the room and then at the pathetic form that was her brother.

She watched as her mother dragged him from the room by the scruff of his navy blue tunic, livid with anger. Then a thought hit her so suddenly that she had to blink twice before processing it.

The navy blue tunic was his favourite and he only wore it on special occasions. For somebody who ardently professed to hate these little matchmaking games her parents played today he sure look like he cared. 

She shrugged the thought off; her brother had botched it all up some how and the girl wouldn't give him a second glance. Still, she thought regretfully, she would have probably liked _this_ one if she had been given the chance to get to know her. 

♥

The Queen shoved her son roughly into a large leather bound chair and flicked her hand towards the doors causing them to crash violently together. Such was her anger that the sheer mental force she had put into closing the doors shattered three of the main windows in the room.

Zan didn't need his mother to speak to know that she wanted an explanation and after righting himself in the chair he began to meekly tell the story of the morning's earlier deception; conveniently forgetting to mention the part where Eliza was naked.

The Queen moved restlessly: she paced, she stomped, she tugged a stray strand of hair, looked menacingly into the mirror, looked menacingly at her son, picked up random objects only to replace them again in the wrong place, and all-the-while the energy of her telekinetic power made the furniture move as if of their own accord so that by the time Zan's narrative had finished he, who had been sitting near the main table at the centre of the room, was now shoved against the back wall.

There was silence.

The Queen looked at her son, opened her mouth as though to speak, closed it, opened it, and closed it again in frustration. She turned forcefully away from him and shattered two more windows without meaning to do so.

"Do you have any idea of the amount of damage you have caused?!" she whispered infuriated. The orbs that were suspended in the air emitting a steady pulsing glow that lit the room flickered tremulously as the force of her power dropped and abruptly climbed again.

The Queen seethed further: "I invite these people to our home as my guests and you disrespect them in such a way that I don't suppose this family will ever be of good repute to them again!"

The Prince at least had the decency to look shame facedly away in disgrace, but the Queen was still not satisfied. "Am I to presume that you don't know who they are?"

This question confused Zan, from the information he had gathered they were a minor family of royalty that were scarcely known to society and he took the chance of saying as much. His mother, who had been about to sit down, jumped up once more enraged.

Flicking her hand towards one of the book selves in the room a large hard backed book made its way swiftly through the air, landing with a thud on Zan's lap. With another small gesture the book flew open and the pages began to flutter rapidly as though caught in the wind, finally resting on the correct page at the tomes centre.

"Do you know who this is?" the Queen asked icily. The picture showed a handsome young man with jet-black hair and striking sapphire eyes. Zan almost scoffed at the simplicity of the question.

"Zavier the Great, the greatest King Antar has ever known." he replied somewhat smug.

"After his death his own nephew refused the mantle knowing he would never be out of his uncle's shadow, leaving our family in direct succession." the Queen carried on curtly. Zan nodded in agreement, still unsure of why this might be relevant.

"Eliza is Zavier's great, great, great granddaughter." his mother said with an air of finality.

The Prince's face turned ashen. Content that her son now understood the extent of the damage he had caused she made her way to leave, in hope of salvaging what she could from the situation that was Eliza and her son.

Before she left she noted that her son was wearing his favourite blue tunic.

♥♥♥

 To Be continued …


	3. Chapter 3

Before By Emily Jennings

Disclaimer: The idea is mine, the characters are based on our Roswell friends, everything else you can work out for yourself!

Note: Huzzah! She finally manages to upload a chapter within a decently corresponding time to the previous one – okay, okay so it's still a longish wait you've had to endure but I went on holiday for two weeks and didn't have access to a computer!

This chapter, and all subsequent chapters, are new (unlike chapters 1 & 2 which were rewrites) which means they'll probably be a little shorter then the previous.

This chapter is a mainly Rath/Lonnie chapter, tell me what you think. As always please read, review & enjoy!

P.S.: Keep in mind that _yes they are all 14 -15 years old but this does not mean that they are 14 – 15 earth years old. They are in fact, in this story anyway, more mature (well that's the theory anyway …)             _

♥♥♥

It wasn't difficult to find out where the Queen had taken Zan; you just had to follow the stream of running glaziers.

Rath watched as Jem, the chief glazier, set off at a sprint down the nearest corridor whilst strapping a many pocketed tool belt to his waist and shouting out orders to his apprentice who in turn scurried off to issue demands to his underlings. 

The would-be-second-in-command hopped agilely out of the way of an aged Antarian glazier who shook his gnarled fist threateningly and threw a few colourful oaths in his direction before hurrying after Jem with a wagonload of paned glass.

A small girl, aged around eight, hopped on anxious feet to follow the procession of workers but Rath caught her by the arm before she could sneak off to join the men. She swung round with her free arm raised as though to hit her opponent but stopped as soon as she realised who he was.

"Hay, Kora" he remarked casually, releasing her from his grip as she relaxed.

"Rath!" she exclaimed brightly, beginning to play absently with a strand of auburn hair.

Kora had harboured a crush on Rath for over a year now and whilst she would not even acknowledge Vilandra's presence in a room she would happily tell Rath anything. He planned to use this to his advantage. "How bad is it?"

"Five windows in the library, four broken on the way there and another two in the West Wing going to Princess Eliza's room."

He winced. That was eleven windows all together, it wasn't the record but it was still bad.

The small girl tugged impatiently on his tunic, "You coming to play outside with us?" By 'us' she meant the small herd of servants' kids that he sometimes entertained with tall tales and games.

"Nah, I've got business to attend to. Maybe later though, okay?"

"Vilandra works you too hard!" she replied stoutly with her hands on her hips.

Rath was about to crack a smile but knew it would hurt her feelings; instead he grimaced and nodded woefully. "I know, I know! But what can one man do against the might of a Princess?" This time he did smile and ruffled her hair affectionately, "See you later kido!"    

He turned and was half way down the corridor before she came running after him: "Rath! Rath, wait up!" she ran in front of him and halted, one arm held out as though to stop him from making a crafty escape. There was a question in her eyes, "W-Why d' you love her?"

He thought seriously about the question and wondered if he would ever be able to convey his reasons, his feelings, for loving Lonnie. He wondered too that even if he could, would this girl understand? Instead he settled for something they would both understand, "She has really shiny hair"

"I have shiny hair!" she said tugging the reddish-brown locks a little harder then was necessary.

"That you do!" he exclaimed as though he had only just realised. He frowned suddenly and then spoke in mock regret, "Ah … but your only eight years old, society would never allow it."

She frowned too. "I'll be nine next year" she stated, matter-of-factly applying her child logic.

Rath bent down so that they were eye level and shot a look around the deserted corridor as though to check for anybody near enough to hear. He motioned for her to come closer, she did so with abated breath, and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Well in that case, Vilandra better hope that we're married by next year or she'll be in for some real competition."

Kora giggled happily and Rath smiled, squeezing her shoulder gently.

He turned and resumed his path down the corridor, waiting to hear Kora's light steps in the other direction. When he didn't he turned and called out to her. She looked at him, a wide grin spread across her face. "This is just between me and you, right?" he asked in a tone that could have been mistaken for actual seriousness. She nodded her head vigorously and then ran in the opposite direction.

Rath stood there for a moment, a small smile playing across his lips, and then, shaking his head in a kind of good natured disbelief, he continued his course down the corridor.

♥

Vilandra dressed in a white chiffon nightgown and sat out on her balcony watching the effervescent light orbs suspended in mid air as they followed the night gardeners, like loyal dogs, keeping the twilight at bay.

The city would be buzzing by now with rumours of what had happened in court, by the end of the week the whole planet would know of what had occurred today, she wouldn't have been surprised if, by today's finish, the Council of Five knew of it.

It was typical of her baby brother to cause a disturbance of this magnitude within court without intending to do so.

She remembered when, at the age of five, her brother had almost caused an inter-planetary war because he slighted a princess of the royal family of Farimoor, the second planet in the alliance. The eleven year old girl had been playing with Zan and declared him as 'the most beautiful child she had ever seen' to which he poked her in the eye and blew a raspberry at her.

For a year after that Antarian security had had to be on full alert against attack in case a Farimooren battle ship 'accidentally' mistook an Antarian space cruiser for a ship of the Rogue Force or Farimooren identification equipment became 'faulty' and tried to obliterate small Antarian countries.

Lonnie chuckled in amusement; the Farimooren princess had been an ugly, self-absorbed little brat who mistreated her servants and as it turned out her father, the King, was a psychotic monster who left his people in famine. When the Farimooren King tried to wage war against Antar, the most beloved and well respected planet within the alliance, his own people revolted and a revolution ensued.

Tender hands approached from behind to rest on her shoulders and she shivered involuntarily as she felt warm breath against her bare skin and soft lips nuzzling her neck, sending small waves of pleasure through her person.

She closed her eyes whilst gently tilting her head back, exposing a little more of her neck, and raised her right hand to entwine her fingers in her attackers short cut hair.

"Hello My Heart" she murmured, finally giving in and turning fully in her seat.

"Hi" he returned, standing slightly back and issuing her a lopsided grin.

She knelt on her chair and raised her hands, so that they lay on each side of his face, and pulled him to her until their foreheads leant on each other. "I have missed you this past hour that we have been apart."

He seemed to pause to breathe her scent in. "I went to the glaziers' to gage the extent of your mother's wrath … although now I am here my heart's mind is telling me I would have been better to stay by your side."

"Hmmm, indeed …" she began to settle small kisses on his lips and face and run her hands down his chest. Her heartbeat began to fasten and then suddenly he pulled away. "Oh, Rath!" she pleaded, pouting.

He laughed in the adoring way that he did and walked backwards slightly into her room. "As much as I would truly love to stay My Angel Features, I don't fancy your mother walking in on us and breaking my head as well as another eleven windows."

Lonnie winced. _Eleven windows?_ That was bad.

Rath once again surveyed her pert figure in the near see-through chiffon nightdress and sighed with regret. "It seems like me and Zan have swapped personalities for tonight … he gets to stare at the Princess Eliza in all her glory and I come over all chivalrous."

Lonnie's jaw dropped. "No?! My brother wouldn't do that."

Rath gave a brief description of what had happened "… then he told me and he decided to let her find out at the banquette."

"Well that's the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard! Clearly he should have gone to her rooms and told her straight away."

"Well that's what I told him but you know how stubborn he can get about these things."

"Still …" she said, looking at him with a glint in her eyes that said he could not escape the true subject: "my mother isn't likely to force open a locked door!" She arose from her chair and circled him twice, swaying her hips seductively. Rath groaned and closed his eyes tightly. Lonnie stopped in front of him and slung her arms lazily around his neck, a suggestive smile creasing her lips. "Rath!"

"Hmmm?" it came out as a chocked almost pained murmur.

"Lock the door"

He opened his eyes wide in disbelief. The tone of her voice said that she had just given a royal order. A royal order from Lonnie was a lot more difficult to ignore than a royal order from Zan.

She saw it in his eyes that he would not go against her and a triumphant grin spread across her face. Rath swallowed hard and walked over to the door and locked it. "Y' know you're gonna pay for this?" he asked.

She raised a brow speculatively, "Lights out" she said. The light orbs went dark …

♥

Eliza saw that the girl's lip had begun to tremble and watched as her eyes began to fill and glisten with suppressed tears. Strange, she thought, as her own vision blurred and hot, salty tears began to course down her face. Should not the girl be crying instead of her? She turned away from the mirror.

Pitying sobs racked her body and for one indulgent moment Eliza felt sorry for herself.

The tears were almost silent as she sought comfort in the soft cushioning of her four-poster bed. If a person had had their back to Eliza they would likely believe they were hearing a small kitten's muffled mew under a blanket.

The Princess happened to be one of the very few people that could cry and still look delicate and composed, which made it difficult to tell if she had been crying at all. Unfortunately even she could not deceive the trained eye of the Queen when she eventually came to visit.

Her majesty took one look at Eliza and rushed over to her.

Sweeping her up into her arms the Queen rocked her like a small infant, quietly hushing her and gently stocking her hair.

Eliza's mother was never a woman who showed any great love or pity and the Princess could not recall a time where she had been embraced in such a manner. This new sensation overwhelmed her and Eliza found herself desperately clinging to the comfort the Queen gave and an old longing thought long buried arose within her for the affection of a mother.

"My dear, dear girl." the elder woman murmured soothingly, "Do not upset yourself over my son's foolishness for he is not worth your tears … if it is any conciliation I believe he is truly sorry, and, knowing my son as I do, he will probably punish himself more severely then any punishment I could ever give him." She waited but no response came, then she sighed in a resigned sort of way, "I can have a carriage ready for you to leave early on the morrow of you so wish."  

Eliza did not reply but her tears subsided a little. Quiet suddenly she hiccoughed giving her cause to sit up abruptly and stare accusingly around the room until she realised that she was the perpetrator.

She looked at the Queen who was still some what surprised at the younger girl's movements and began to giggle uncontrollably. The Queen joined her and they spent a whole five minutes laughing afresh every time Eliza hiccoughed. Eventually, with the hiccoughs departed, they both righted themselves on the bed and a more comfortable silence resumed.

"Can I trust you?"

The question pierced the silence so unexpectedly that at first the Queen was too shocked to answer. The monarch peered across at her little charge, her blue eyes deadly serious, and asked, "What do you think?"

Eliza searched for falseness in the woman's gaze and found none. She remembered her gracious welcome, friendly manner, and, most recently, the warmth and comfort she had just shown her, Eliza, who was just a second rate princess she had known for less then a day.     

"I think that perhaps I can."

"I think you might be right."

Eliza nodded her head slowly and in acceptance, "Well in that case … I guess I'm staying"

♥

Antar's duo of suns spilled over the horizon and cast a ghostly beauty over the dew filled gardens. A shaft of pallid light hit a prism dangling precariously from the balcony's ceiling and sent fragmented rays pooling onto the bedspread of Princess Vilandra's bed.

The princess in question had been up for an hour already but now she took the time to watch the rainbow of colours dance over the linen material. The fabric crumpled, sending the pattern to seeming glide elsewhere and her eyes were directed to the person who had caused the disturbance.

Rath would not be up for another two or three hours at least and Lonnie liked to take this time to soak in every aspect of him. She traced his profile down and over his bare chest until the rest of him was consumed within the thin sheets, which of course was not satisfying at all. Still, she thought, she was reluctant to go over there in case she woke him for he was sleeping so peacefully.

She regarded his slightly tousled hair and allowed herself to remember the previous night. Yes, let him sleep, he deserved that much at least.

She cast a glance at the mirror and was sufficiently assured that she looked her usual stunning self. She would go for a walk, a nice long walk would certainly cool down her thoughts …

Vilandra was glad for the walk. This early in the morning there was nobody about and her thoughts were her own. Or at least that was what she had believed before she went colliding into somebody.

Vilandra and Eliza both began to apologise at the same time, and then, when they both realised who the other was, then began to laugh at the same time.

Vilandra was curios about this girl that her brother apparently liked so much and Eliza already had her respect so this time Lonnie made an effort to talk to her where she had not the other suitors.

At first they talked of trivia things: court gossip, the fine work of Mira and the beauty of the palace, and Lonnie was pleasantly surprised. Eliza was intelligent, perhaps as intelligent as herself; not at all like her so-called 'friends' at the palace who were, in truth, just pretty ornaments for their fathers to display and use as pawns in negotiations ('If you give me exclusive rights to the crystal mines you own I'll give you any one of my daughters."). 

They talked until Vilandra felt as though they had known each other since birth. They talked of politics, art, architecture, science, travel and more. They talked until they saw that other people in the manor house and palace were rising.

They began to stroll back to the manor house and when they reached Eliza's room she asked Lonnie in. It was not lost on the elder princess that her mother had given Eliza chambers equal in beauty and size to her own.

She smiled brightly at the brunette: "Can we talk Princess to Princess for a moment?"

"I thought we had been doing so!"

"Well yeah, we have, but I kind of wanted to talk about yesterday."

"Oh, right, well, erm … sure, go ahead"

"What my brother did was abominable, I mean, I don't know the details or anything but I know that he lied and that wasn't decent. And I suppose what I'd like to say is that they, he and Rath that is, are always getting into some kind of trouble – mainly Rath's doing – but they mean well. See, they're like dogs, sometimes they pee on the carpet but they're kind hearted and fiercely loyal and they'd give their own lives if it meant protecting people they cared for." 

Vilandra became flustered at her own inability to convey her sentiments and, sighing, began to start afresh: "I suppose what I'm really trying to say is that I know my brother can be a dumb arse but, well, I really like you 'liza; you're the first girl of my own age who I can have an intelligent conversation with and, I know I'm being selfish by asking but, please don't go!"

Eliza couldn't help but laugh, "Lonnie, you should have just said! I've already discussed it with your mother and I'm not leaving."

"Huh?!"

"I guess what _I'm trying to say is; I wasn't really upset by your brother's foolishness but my own … I wanted Zan to be Max. I wanted so badly because…because, oh I don't know. I just did. And I got my wish didn't I? I'm not upset because he lied to me, I'm upset because he lied to me and I don't care."_

♥

Rath groaned and shied away from the loud banging noise as Lonnie entered the room, "For pity's sake Woman! Have some compassion, have you already forgotten that I've been up half the night?!" He rolled the covers off his face a peered up at the female figure. It was not Vilandra.

He yelped and jumped up off the bed, securing the linen sheet around his naked form as he backed farther away from the Queen. "It's not what it looks like!"

"On the contrary Rath, it is exactly what it looks like!" she gave him a piercing glare. "Quite evidently you came down with that bug that everybody has been getting and Vilandra – worried for your health – would have no other way but for you to rest immediately. Had my daughter been sensible she would have fetched the doctor directly and had you moved to your own rooms except so fearful for her beloved fiancés life was she that she could not bear to leave your side. This would of course explain your lack of clothing since it has been my observation that persons who are affected by this bug experience a startling fever. I expect my daughter recognises your evident improvement and has finally allowed herself to leave your side to fetch the doctor, has not she?"

Rath gaped at the Queen as she tapped her foot expectantly. He nodded mutely.

She smiled suddenly, a smile Rath suspected she had been carefully restraining, and giggled slightly. "I'm ever so glad! Had it been anything more … promiscuous things would have been serious indeed."

It was around that time Lonnie chose to walk in. The younger girl glanced from Rath to her mother and then did a retake, "Mother, I can explain …"

"I assure you that won't be necessary Vilandra" replied the Queen, adopting a brisk manner. "I know exactly what went on here!" She turned once again to Rath, "I think it best that you stay here for now and recover further. I'll send a nurse at midday to assess your health; in the meantime I'm sure Vilandra is more then capable."

The Queen smiled sweetly and exited the room.

Rath and Lonnie looked at each other both equally perplexed. "Did she just cover for us?!" asked she.

"Yep, I guess she's in a _really good mood today!" supplied Rath._

Vilandra smiled broadly, "And I think I know why!"

♥

To Be Continued …


	4. Author's note

Hi everybody  
  
I received a couple of reviews the other day and was really surprised, I'd completely forgotten about this fic. What with moving, a new baby sister and my A Levels and stuff it just slipped my mind.  
  
Anyway, I've lost all my old data for it on the computer but I've got most of my hand written notes so I figured that with the summer holiday upon me I'd get rewriting!  
  
I'm in the process of the forth chapter and hope to get it to you soon.  
  
Thank you for all your kind reviews, it means so much to me that people like my writing.  
  
With love  
  
Kind Regards  
  
Emily x 


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